


Fix you

by WendyShad



Category: X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom
Genre: Charles does not, Erik has a taste, Fix-It, M/M, So the lyric's implied, Yeah I love the song, lights off, terrible description
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-08
Updated: 2014-06-08
Packaged: 2018-02-03 21:54:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1757927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WendyShad/pseuds/WendyShad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Just miss you a bit.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Fix you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [oonaseckar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/oonaseckar/gifts).



> Just miss you a bit.

The window bolt shivered, a quiet shriek in the night, tendrils of cold climbing up his shoulder blades.

Charles sidled in the orange-warm light, pursing his lips to hide a hint of surprise.

“Is that you, Romeo?” He sighed in a sing-song voice. “I thought we’d bidden goodbye.”

His friend crawled over the windowsill frosted with snow and flung away his cape, a whirlwind of snowdusts twinkling in the light.

“Perhaps not today.”

He was without his helmet, cheekbones standing out in the crisp air. Two small balls floated above his palm, circling around each other.

Charles suppressed the impulse of diving into the warm torrent. “What do you want for today, then? A word of forgiveness? A hug? Or a good-night kiss?”

His friend shook his head and stepped closer, trapping him between the desk and the stare.

“Today, I will fix you.”

oOo

The two balls rose into the air, still circling. One of them got dented on both poles, flattening and expanding into a flimsy mirror. The other one extended and lengthened, becoming a one-hand-long column slightly flat on the side; two swirls started near one end, penetrating the column, divided by a splitting slit; the other end bifurcated into perfectly symmetric halves, which flattened and sharpened into slender blades.

Charles finally realized what was happening. He let out a horrified scream.

“Erik no!”

The scissors were faster.

oOo

He squeezed his eyes shut and let the cold metal do its work.

Two clean clips rid of the curls drooping on his shoulders, ends of hair falling onto his nape.

One slicing at each temple; the blades dove sidewards, exposing his ears.

Picking up a lock on his forehead, the scissors twisted and tilted, suading the centre parting back to the side.

Dipping into the ample brown, they chewed and ground and collected and scattered, rendering the heavy head relieved.

In the end, the pair of blades, warm from the intense butchering, nestled against his temple and soared along his hairline, kissing his scalp and whispering loving words, nibbling away the last excess curl.

Through the shield he struggled to hold, he captured the projection from his barber: the scissors shook off the clippings on the edges, fusing and transforming into one single blade. The blade now climbed onto his cheek and massaged its way down his jaw, leaving naked skin to the cold air and a tide of flush.

“Open your eyes, Charles.”

And he saw himself in the mirror, ten years younger.

oOo

His friend scrutinized his work through narrowed eyes, humming in satisfaction.

The two balls went back to his hand and went on circling.

Charles opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He watched the warmth accumulating in his friend’s eyes, reaching out his hand as the face leaned closer.

He switched off the light.


End file.
